


The Trouble with Chains

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Episode Fix-it, Episode: s04e09 Something Blue, F/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 16:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: Sometimes accidents can yield the most advantageous outcomes...[Something Blue goes slightly off course.]





	1. Before

Spike sat, pale and disheveled, chained up in Giles’ tub. His narrowed eyes watched Buffy as she leant wearily against the wall next to him.

"So, you saw their faces, but you can't describe them."

He gave a half-shrug. "They were human. Two eyes each, kind of in the middle."

Buffy sighed. "Uh-huh. And the lab?"

"It was underground,” said Spike. “I came out through an air vent, I don't know exactly where. I'm done. Put the telly on.”

Giles entered just long enough to hand Buffy a  _Kiss a Librarian_  mug.

Spike leant forward. “About bloody time. I hope you got it warm enough.”

Buffy grimaced as she held the mug still.

Around the straw, Spike continued, "I don't know why you're so dainty all of a sudden. You've done this for Angel. You must've."

Buffy pulled the mug away and set it aside.

"Hey! Give it!"

She stood firm. "The invalid amnesiac routine is over. Kitchen closed 'til you tell me something useful about the commandos."

Spike pouted. "I'm trying to remember. It was very traumatic."

Buffy crossed her arms. "How long are you going to pull this crap?"

"How long am I gonna live once I tell you?"

"We've no intention of killing a harmless creature,” said Giles. “But we need to know what's been done to you. We can't let you go until we're sure you're impotent."

Spike’s eyes widened in horror. "Hey!"

"Sorry,” said Giles. “Poor choice of words. Until we know you're..."

"Flaccid?" suggested Buffy.

It truly was a poor choice of words, given how Spike’s bloodlust wasn’t the only thing up, but he hoped Buffy didn’t notice that. The situation was beyond cruel as it was.

"You're one step away," he warned.

Buffy scoffed. "Giles, help! He's gonna scold me!"

Spike tried to lunge at her, making the chains creek under the effort, but they ultimately held him back.

"You know what?” said Buffy. “I think you don't want us to let you go. Maybe we made it too comfy here."

" _Comfy?_ ” repeated Spike, aghast. “Do I look comfy? I'm chained in a bathtub drinking pig's blood from a novelty mug. Doesn't rate high in the Zagat's guide."

Buffy leaned close. "You want something nicer?"

Spike bared his teeth and she continued the tease.

"Ooh... look at my poor neck, all bare and tender and delicious..."

He tried to strain on his bindings once more but only got more creaking noises for his efforts.

"All that blood just pumping away..." continued Buffy, leaning closer still. Just out of reach.

Spike could hear the pumping noise, for Christ’s sake. He could smell her skin. If she would just move a little bit closer–– he lunged again and the chains gave a little. Not nearly enough to release him, but enough to close the infinitesimal gap Buffy had left between them.

Fangs found the pulse point and latched on.

Spike shuddered at the taste.

Buffy gasped and, almost as suddenly, he pulled away, eyes returning to blue.

“Shit! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean–! The chains gave! It was an accident! I–” he stopped talking, his brain trying to catch up with his mouth.

The Slayer pressed a hand to her neck, but otherwise stayed rigid in shock.

“You– You pulled away?” she accused.

“I said it was an accident!” exclaimed Spike. He was panting, his thoughts frantic and tongue on fire with the most delicious thing he’d ever experienced. “Wait. You’re more shocked at that than it happening to begin with?”

“I… Oh god!” She finally pulled away and fell to the floor, out of reach once more.

Spike swore under his breath. Death would be coming for him any second now. Just as he thought it, Giles stepped back in the room.

“Are you too still bickering?” he asked, before noticing Buffy. “What happened?”

Spike opened his mouth to defend himself, but Buffy jumped in before he could.

“Nothing,” she said. “I fell.”

“Really, Buffy,” Giles chided. “You really should be more careful.”

“Lay off,” said Spike. “Give ‘er a little bitta sympathy, eh, Rupes?”

Giles cocked his head to the side. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t!” he spat – fully ready to defend himself again.

“Shut up, both of you,” said Buffy. “I’m going to get a Band-Aid.”

Spike watched her go, terrified of what might happen next.


	2. After

After the spell was broken and the final batch of apology cookies were both made and consumed, Buffy sent the Scooby Gang home and Giles to bed to rest his eyes. Only then did she approach Spike.

“We need to talk.”

He sighed. “Need to interrogate me again? Why don’t you–”

“No,” said Buffy. “You know what I wanna talk about.”

He swallowed and didn’t meet her eyes.

“What was that about, earlier?” she pressed.

Spike shrugged but still didn’t reply.

“Your chains. You think they might give again?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a trick question?”

“No,” said Buffy. “But I don’t know why I’m even asking. It’s not like I'm expecting you to tell the truth.”

“What if I did?” he asked.

“What?”

“Someday I might surprise you, y’know.”

Buffy scoffed. “I think someday was today, and I so don’t think I need that again.”

“I think you do.”

“What does that even mean?”

Spike shrugged again.

Buffy groaned. “Can you just stop with the mind games?!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Then, off her glare, amended his response to, “Fine!” in a petulant tone.

Buffy sighed. “Things were so much easier when you just wanted to kill me.”

Spike pouted. “Tell me about it.” Silence hung between them for an uneasy moment, then he said, “I don’t think the chains will give anymore. But, then again, I didn’t think they’d give before. So who knows?”

Buffy studied him.

“What?” he said, defensive. “You were bitchin’ about me not being honest. I gave you an honest answer. What more do you want?”

She began a sentence then immediately abandoned it in favor of another groan. “I want you to make sense! You say you don’t care, but then you apologize. You spend two years trying to kill me and then –  _Then!_  – when you get the chance, you stop. You don’t take it!”

“You know, Slayer, I can’t help but feel like you’re a little upset about the not stopping. Why’s that then?”

“I just…” she sighed, barely able to believe she was admitting such things. To Spike, of all people. “I’m sick of weird mixed signals.”

“Ah, let me guess,” said Spike. “Is this an Angel-related issue?”

She bit her lip. “Maybe.”

“Right, because he vows eternal love and then buggers off only to come back and check on you – behind your back – and then get his arse in a twist because you call him on his bull. That about it?”

Buffy sank to the floor, emotionally spent. “Yeah, that pretty much covers it.”

“Well here’s some more honesty for you, in that case: you don’t need the prat. You deserve better.”

She blushed and avoided his gaze. “Like you, for instance? My  _fiancé_.”

“I could think of worse ideas.”

“Enough!” said Buffy. “No more talk of marriages. That spell was–”

“Refreshing,” said Spike. He stared into space like his thoughts were spread among the cosmos. Then, in the next second, he snapped back to reality and looked straight into Buffy’s soul. “Do you ever get bored with the whole pretense of life? What am I saying? Of course you do. You spend most of your day trying to be ‘normal.’ I can’t think of anything more tedious.”

Buffy blinked at him. “Did you, uh, have a point you were making or are you just trying to make me feel worse?”

“My point is, you’re sick of mixed signals. I’m sick of pretending I want to murder you. How about we both say fuck it and admit how we really feel?”

“I– you–” she stood up and started pacing. “What are you saying?”

Spike looked at her seriously. “Cards on the table? I think you’re likely to stake me before sunrise. In light of the impending doom, I’m just gonna bloody well go for it: I want you, Buffy. Not to kill you, but to taste you. To hold you. God help me, to kiss you like the bloody fools we were playing earlier.”

Her blush deepened as she struggled for words. Kissing Spike had been amazing, but it wasn’t real. How did she know he wasn’t playing with her now? Aside from the fact that he was at her throat earlier and had pulled back. Which, wait a second…

“Hey honesty guy, how come you didn’t get one of your crippling headaches when you bit me earlier?”

Spike’s features clouded as he thought about it. “I’m guessin’ because I didn’t actually mean to bite you. Maybe the chip registers intent.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “You looked pretty intent.”

“Well, okay, yeah, I wanted to bite you. I mean, I always want to. But I didn’t think I’d be able to. Certainly didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Hmm. Weird as it was, he hadn’t hurt her. But she wasn’t gonna tell him that. She walked close to his chair and undid the ropes tying him to it.

He looked at her with a kind of awed confusion and stood up.

“Prove it to me.”

“Prove–?”

“Try and bite me. I need to see the chip is still working.”

“Buffy–”

“Do it,” she insisted. “I’m not talking no for an answer.”

Spike swallowed. They were so close, she felt his breath against her throat.

“For this to work,” he said, “I’m gonna have to make sure it hurts.”

“O-okay,” said Buffy, hoping the wobble in her voice wasn’t too obvious. She braced herself and took off the Band-Aid.

Spike let down his fangs, put his hands on her biceps and pulled her closer only to pause. Just when she thought he wasn’t going to do it, he kissed her earlier wound and ran his tongue along it.

Buffy tried to hold back a moan but couldn’t.

Spike slipped in his fangs as easily as before, without the least bit of pain. She considered pushing him away despite the thrill it sent flying throughout her. Just then, he bit harder. She felt a sharp pull for a second, then he reared back, clutching his head.

Buffy stared at him. Some primal part of her felt betrayed, though she knew it was illogical. She’d asked him to do it. He’d warned her it would hurt. And yet, even then he’d made it as pain-free as possible. At least for her.

He looked like he was in agony. For the first time, she felt bad about teasing him, and feeding him mostly cold pig’s blood.

Riding high on adrenaline, she offered her hand and pulled him up. Before she could second guess herself, she pressed her lips to his.

Their legs got a little dizzy and, somehow, they ended up on the couch. When she got her breath back, she offered her throat once more.

Spike studied her. “Have I slipped into a hallucination from all the medical experiments?”

“We’ll be talking about them again soon,” she promised. “For now, though, it’s just us. This is real.”

He smirked a little. “No pretenses?”

“None,” said Buffy. Her head was still tilted to the side. “Take what you need but not more than what I need. Don’t make it hurt for both our sakes.”

Spike didn’t need to be asked twice. Buffy kind of loved that about him. The feel of his mouth on her was her new favorite thing.


End file.
